


A Land Without Magic

by ddagent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Back Room Sex, Curse Breaking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the curse breaks, Zelena goes searching for her jewel in Gold's shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Land Without Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at ABC.
> 
> This is set in an AU where Zelena was caught up in the curse and Rumpel didn't have to deal with any Ogres as the Dark One. Note the rating, it is important. 
> 
> Huge thank you to riskpig for checking my characterisation over. THIS IS MY FIRST FINISHED FIC IN A MONTH AND A HALF I AM SO HAPPY. So I hope you all enjoy it!

It had been four hours since a pulse of pure light had swept through the town, obliterating the fog that had held their memories hostage for twenty eight years. But on the tails of that curse had come another, that of two lives running parallel in their minds. Two sets of memories, two sets of emotions: all conflicting with each other. So tempting was it to reassert their lives from the Enchanted Forest that old rivalries bubbled to the surface, new families were cast aside in favour of the old. Such strategies were a difficult feat to those whose lives had been nothing like the pages ripped from the most romantic of story books.

 

Both of _her_ lives had been agonising. In the life before she had been abandoned by the people who should have loved her; unwanted by everyone else who crossed her path. In the life since she had been respected, but that respect came with isolation and not even the whisper of a happy thought. While she may not have a lover to run to and embrace, or a child to pick up in her arms, she did have one thing that few others in Storybrooke possessed.

 

Magic.

 

The curse had brought them to a land without magic; a world she had learnt enjoyed the charlatanry of the Wizard but burned the Witch. However, no more than an hour had passed since purple smoke had seeped into the foundations of the town. It had crawled inside her where it now lay itching, waiting for something to be restored so it could be let free. For so long her magic had been restrained: it did not react well to that feeling. Once she had her jewel, though, everything could be as it was.

 

Her first port of call was not to Town Hall, was not to Granny’s and it _certainly_ wasn’t as part of the mob heading to the home of the Mayor. It was to a shop just off Main Street, opposite the boarded up library. The door to Gold’s Antiquities opened easily with a little force on the lock. If her jewel had come over with the curse, it would be here.

 

Stepping inside, she began to realise just how futile her search might be. From ceiling to floor the shop was full of objects: old books with yellowed pages; discarded toys worn with use; relics from a hundred places and a thousand people. When people finally reasserted their lives, they would come looking for the possessions they had lost. The axe would go to a dwarf. The mobile to a happy couple wanting to lull their child to sleep. Within days this place would be bare. She couldn’t let her jewel fall into anyone’s hands but hers.

 

After quickly scouting the counters, she found the one displaying jewellery. A tiara befitting a princess, a pair of earrings that she _knew_ hadbelonged to the Mayor. In the middle of the display was a broach of the deepest emerald, encased in silver. She pressed her hand to the counter, the glass shaking as the jewel recognised its mistress.

 

Unable to wait a second more, she darted to the other side of the counter and eased the glass door open. Her hand shot in, but did not feel the cool stone that she expected to. Her eyes followed her hand, finding nothing but an empty display.

 

“Where is it? _Where is it?”_

 

Laughter echoed dimly in the back room, accompanied by footsteps and the tip tap of a cane on solid floors. She straightened her back as she stood to greet the master of these trinkets. She straightened her skirt too, tugged a little at the jacket she wore. Old habits died hard.

 

As the curtain to the back room was pulled back, she was greeted by her first look at Rumpelstiltskin in this new world. She’d seen Mister Gold hundreds of times. But now she recognised him for who he truly was. She preferred the version from the Enchanted Forest, the sorcerer in his leather and dragon hide. In this world he was too drab, too boring. Not enough _colour._ The magic had been torn from his skin, returning him to a simple man. With the grey running through his hair and the cane he carried in his hand, he could be any mortal she passed on the street. But this was Rumpelstiltskin. Even without his magic, he would never be just anyone.

 

He had known she would come. He had laid that jewel out as bait, a trap for the little Witch. His thumb ran a path over the jewel, his forehead creasing when the magic inside rejected him. Magic knew its mistress.

 

“A beautiful piece, Ms Emerson. You have marvellous taste.”

 

A snort. “Clearly not.”

 

Another laugh. He left the jewel on the counter and walked to a set of shelves, wiping his finger in the layer of dust. “Now that the curse has broken, I really should clean up. Even with magic, the shop has to be maintained. You know, with all these tears and reunions, I’m surprised you’re not visiting the Mayor. But then, there are no family reunions for you, are there Zelena?”

 

The vase smashed just to the right of his head, shards of porcelain falling to the floor in a messy heap. He didn’t even blink. “You _bastard._ I was happy in Oz!”

 

He stabbed a finger in her direction. “Don’t lie to yourself, dearie. You were anything but happy there.”

 

Another antique hit the wall, too wide to do any real damage. He moved closer to the jewellery case; she retreated in the direction of her jewel. Rumpelstiltskin was circling her, a predator taunting its prey before the kill. Once she had that jewel in her hand, however, the odds would change.

 

“You know nothing of my time in Oz.” Another step backward, another step forward. What excellent dancing partners they would make. “Do you hate me that much that you would _drag_ me into your ridiculous curse; stick me here for twenty eight years? You tried to kill _me,_ remember? What did I do to deserve this torture?”

 

Forward again, his footsteps quicker this time. She responded in kind, retreating as quickly as she could to the broach. “I never hated you, Zelena.”

 

“Yet I’m here, running an art gallery that no one goes to. Rejected by every man who I dare let into my heart. This curse was supposed to take away Snow White’s happily ever after, not mine.” She sighed, dropping her eyes to the floor.  “All I ever wanted was for someone to want me. Haven’t you ever felt that way? Haven’t you ever wished someone could want you more than anything in all the realms?”

 

Time in Storybrooke had turned him soft. In the moment he paused, Zelena reached behind her for the jewel resting on the counter. She gripped it tight in her hand, her fingers brushing the stone. Magic surged through her, the latent power in the broach reacting with the smoke from before. Her skin prickled, every sense awakening once more. She dimly recalled the now clear jewel dropping to the floor and shattering into a thousand useless pieces. She had no need for it any more. Her magic was finally where it belonged.

 

She screwed her eyes shut, unable to concentrate on the world around her and the struggle going on inside her body. The magic seeped into every part of her, nestling where it had been since birth. Her hands fell to the counter, the glass biting into her palms as she attempted to steady herself. It slid along her spine, up through to the back of her mind and suddenly her eyes flew open. The magic was settling in her skin, her fingers starting to show the familiar green.

 

Two hands gripped her shoulders, providing an anchor the glass could not. “ _Breathe,_ Zelena,” a familiar voice hissed in her ear. “You need to breathe.”

 

She inhaled one deep breath, her eyes fixated on her fingers. As the tangle of magic faded away, as did the green of her skin. Letting out another shaky breath, Zelena relaxed her entire body. She hadn’t felt this at home in her own skin in quite some time.

 

Turning to Rumpelstiltskin she expected to see him smirking, a painful quip resting on the tip of that wicked tongue. But he was silent, his eyes busy as he took in every inch of her. His hand rose, his fingers brushing the side of her face with the same care he took to his spinning. His touch made a path across her chin and up over her mouth, his index finger resting on the curve of her lip. “What are you doing?”

 

“Looking.” At her words, his hand moved from her mouth. Instead his fingers pushed an errant curl away from her face. “Your hair is shorter than when I saw you last. You look older, too. No longer an apprentice.”

 

She managed a weak smile. “A full blown witch. Took over Oz whilst you were busy with my little sister.”

 

He produced a weak chuckle to match her smile, his hands still exploring her face. Rumpelstiltskin moved the collar of her jacket, baring the patch of skin that had started to rot during their last encounter. “My work with Regina was not for naught. I got my wish, I came here. Despite not finishing your training, you haven’t turned out _too_ badly.”

 

She sent a burst of magic in his direction, throwing him roughly against the opposite wall. He looked surprised, but he didn’t respond in kind. She looked up at his face, at the inquisitive eyes awaiting her next move. He got his turn to touch, why shouldn’t she? Her hands followed him, sinking into the straightened hair that framed his face. It was softer than she expected. A vase against his head had summoned no reaction, but her nails against his scalp encouraged his teeth to sink into his bottom lip.

 

Zelena continued her exploration of his face. She couldn’t get used to seeing it like this, so human and unassuming. His eyes were too warm, his skin too clear. She felt stubble growing underneath his chin. “Is it strange to look in the mirror and see this face?” Her fingers caressed the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. “I barely recognised myself.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin paused before he answered. Zelena wondered if he had been constructing some half-truth to feed her. “When Emma came to town, I covered every mirror in my home and in this shop for a whole seven days. I’d lived with that face for so long; I could barely remember what I used to look like.”

 

“It’s not a _bad_ face.” The corner of her mouth pulled up. “Probably a good idea to cover the mirrors rather than to crack them.”

 

She was pushed back against the glass by his magic, the counter once again digging into her skin. Rumpelstiltskin followed, this time his hands pressing hard against her waist. He closed the distance between them, stealing her breath. She stood fragile in his grasp, unwilling to make the first move in this game. Instead of kissing her or killing her, he just moved the collar of her jacket again, baring the same skin that had last been green in his eyes.

 

“Stunning. In every way,” he whispered, his head leaning down to nestle against her skin. Zelena held her breath until she felt the pressure of his mouth. A whispered caress, like an incantation spoken in the dead of night. He planted a kiss on the edge of her collar bone before leaving a trail all the way up her neck. Her fingers tugged at his hair, pressing him closer. She could feel his stubble on the hollow of her throat, could hear the soft sound of his lips as he kissed her bare skin.

 

Reluctantly, Zelena pulled him back, wanting to feel that mouth of his against her own. The hands that had cupped her waist now cradled her face, pushing her hair back to kiss her properly. Rumpelstiltskin laid a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth before he languidly took possession of her top lip. Her previous kisses had been fumbles with the village boys, tricks played by them to see who would kiss the Witch. Rumpelstiltskin took his time seducing her. Every touch increased the pressure until they were bundled against each other, lips unable to stray far from each other.

 

His tongue followed the path his mouth had made and further, finding parts of her mouth that sparked. Behind them, three shelves came tumbling down. Rumpelstiltskin stopped kissing her to look around at the mess. “Still can’t always control it, eh dearie?”

 

Zelena smirked, reaching for his tie and yanking him back to her side. “Don’t lie, _dearie._ That was all you.”

 

Another dirty chuckle before his mouth was smashed against hers. With his hands once more around her waist, Zelena felt herself be pushed into the direction of the back room. The curtain was blown open, their path unhindered. They collided against a table, then an old dresser before they crashed to the cot against the back wall.

 

“You really know how to show a girl a good time,” Zelena said, drawing herself up onto the cot and kicking off her heels in the process.

 

Rumpelstiltskin followed suit. “Would you prefer candles, dearie? Romantic music?”

 

She gripped his hair, dragging his mouth next to hers. “Tried that. Didn’t work.”

 

Zelena turned her attention from his hair to his clothes. She struggled with the tie for a moment until she managed to find the right way to undo it. His jacket came next; her hands sliding it down his shoulders as she advanced with a kiss. His own hands tore at her jacket, dropping the fabric to the back of the cot. Nimble fingers undid the gold buttons of her waistcoat, then her cream blouse to reveal the skin underneath.

 

She was at the pleasure of Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth and hands, his desperate touch making her groan. His hands held her blouse apart while his mouth kissed the tops of her breasts, occasionally drifting down to tease her nipples through the green lace of her bra. Books on the cabinet next to them slid off their shelves and crashed to the floor, each new book accompanied by a moan torn from her mouth. This was like the magic all over again: all-consuming and _addictive._

“Rumpelstiltskin…” Zelena moaned, her hands running up and down his shoulders, pressing him harder against her body. His fingers, so used to thread and straw, pinched her nipple through her bra while he tugged the other with his teeth. “ _Rumpel…_ ”

 

After his mouth came back to hers, Zelena took the opportunity to tear open his shirt. She saw a button land under his work table, but she was too busy running her hands up and down his bare torso. His flesh was smooth, so different from the Enchanted Forest. She ran a long nail down one nipple, and then the other, crowing as Rumpelstiltskin sunk his teeth into her neck as he, too, became overwhelmed. She continued teasing him with her nails, leaving red lines up and down that pretty skin of his.

 

“I want you,” he growled, nipping at her throat.

 

Her hands sunk down the back of his shirt, gripping his shoulder blades to stop herself from falling too far.  “I want you as well.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin’s hands moved to her skirt, pushing it up to bunch around her waist. He teased the inside of her thighs, delicate fingers tracing the boundary of lace stocking and supple flesh. Zelena lifted her body upwards, pressing her form into his eager hands. He cupped her through the slip of matching lace she had stepped into that morning, never dreaming it would be peeled off her by Rumpelstiltskin.

 

She watched him stumble with the zipper of his trousers, fumbling in his desperation to be free of the garment. So different from the laced up leather trousers he used to wear. One tug of a lace and he would be undone. Zelena let herself be carried away by an old fantasy before she was pressed against the side of the dresser, Rumpelstiltskin’s hands gripping her hips. She held her breath as he slid inside her, not breathing out until he was hip to hip. They both took a moment, both watching each other to see who would make the next move.

 

Zelena held onto Rumpelstiltskin’s shoulders, her nails biting into his skin. She’d marked him all over, claiming him in some primal fashion. It was only fair - she had been his from the moment he had tied that blindfold around her eyes. Using his shoulders as an anchor, Zelena pulled away only to jerk her hips against his. He followed suit, sliding out only to slam back inside her. They combined their rhythm, pulling and pushing at each other whilst something built inside them both.

 

Her magic tugged at her, spilling out into the shop. A glass display case smashed in the main room, the sails on a model windmill spun and spun and spun. One of Rumpelstiltskin’s hands returned to her breasts, kneading her skin with every thrust he made. It was becoming harder to focus, both on the ache she could feel inside her and the magic clawing at her skin.

 

 _“Harder._ ” Rumpelstiltskin responded in kind, pounding into her. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, less precision and more seeking his own pleasure. She slid a hand up his neck, caressing his throat. She shared the pressure of her magic, the Dark One whimpering as he joined her in the halfway world between pure magic and pleasure. _“_ More, Rumpelstiltskin. I need _more_!”

The air was a litany of her throaty moans, accompanied by the harsh sighs of her lover. She felt his hand slide over her thigh, his calloused fingers rubbing against the side of her clit to give her just what she needed. Zelena felt a spark of magic against her skin and suddenly the world was tearing itself apart again, magic and pleasure ripping through her body and coming to a head in a glorious scream of his name.

 

Rumpelstiltskin joined her in ecstasy almost immediately, her name whispered against the curve of her neck again and again. Zelena let herself be swept away in the sensation of the moment. Even when the pleasure had drained away, she still took solace in Rumpelstiltskin’s face resting by hers. He looked so content, so calm. His eyes conveyed so much more emotion in this world. She rather liked it.

 

She didn’t want this moment to end. She didn’t want to go back to a world where his body wasn’t pressed against hers, where he wasn’t moaning her name like it was the only one he knew. If she gave him a chance then he would pull away, perhaps reject her like he had done in the Enchanted Forest. It was a new dawn, a new world. She was done feeling unwanted. This time she was going to walk away and leave the moment pure. A perfect moment.

 

“You’ll have customers soon. Would ruin the image of the Dark One to find him lying half naked on top of the spinster art curator.” Summoning up every bit of energy she had, Zelena managed to push Rumpelstiltskin away and stand on two unsteady feet. She tugged her skirt down before turning her attention to the buttons of her blouse. “I’m glad you were here when I stopped by to visit.”

 

He let out a low spurt of laughter from his position on the cot. “Well I was waiting for you, dearie. Knew you’d be by, sooner or later.” With her buttons all done up, Zelena turned her attention back to him. He was smiling at her. “I hope you return, Zelena. I pride myself on being able to satisfy my customers. I would very much like to continue satisfying you.”

 

“We’ll see, dearie. I may want to return to Oz. I do have a life there, you know.”

 

“But of course.” With a wave of his hand, Rumpelstiltskin was back to his perfect image of Mister Gold. Right down to the tie pin. He picked her jacket up off the floor and helped her into it. “I thought things would be a lot more interesting.”

 

She turned to face him, her nose crinkling. “I’m sorry?”

 

“I thought things would be a lot more interesting in Storybrooke with you here. That’s why I tweaked the curse to bring you along. And as usual, I was right.”

 

Zelena tried not make too much of his omission. She just offered him a smile and turned on her heel. The door to his shop banged open with a wave of her hand and she headed back out into Storybrooke feeling better than she had in _years._ Her body was still adjusting to the magic, as well as reeling from her time in Rumpelstiltskin’s back room. She felt good.

 

But that didn’t stop the terror leap through her when she passed a shop window and saw something on her neck. On closer inspection, though, she found it to be nothing more than a hickey. Rumpelstiltskin had left his mark on her, just as she had left hers on him.

 

He’d had been right. Things were about to get a lot more interesting in Storybrooke. 


End file.
